Meriel's Book
by kaliaisvell
Summary: A collection of short stories that a budding scribe may or may not write about. Will mostly be uploading short stories here that don't exactly have a part in anything that I have planned and are just ideas or characters that are being tried out. Check them out and leave some feedback. Some might even be turned into actual stories later on
1. Orc's

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.R.R Tolkien unless otherwise specified. I only own my OC's

Hello all! I am still alive, just been busy with internship and graduation. In which I am done with both! Just job hunting right now. As I said in the summary, this will be a collection of stuff that I've been writing on the side or for the story competitions on lotr amino. Some might take off to be in their own stories or characters that appear might in other stories. Who knows. Just figured it might be better than making multiple uploads.

Thank you so much to my beta, Lydwina Marie, for editing this and being patient with my slow butt. Much love!

This was written for another story competition on the amino and it was interesting to write as an orc. Would not do it again anytime soon that's for sure. Enjoy!

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Arzau roared with laughter as another Orc pranced around with the head of a human as a macabre puppet. It's voice was high pitched and whiny after the fashion in which most mortals spoke, mocking the very enemy they had just slain mere moments ago. The fire cast dark shadows among the group as they feasted upon manflesh, tearing at the tender skin, chewing through muscle, using the bones to pick out bits from their teeth. They laughed raucously at their victory, celebrating the prospect of bringing down the ugly city of white. They had spent the majority of the day setting fire to the fields and slaying all who opposed, and Arzau wanted more. He wanted to shed blood under the banner of Sauron, his blade cutting through soft flesh, his teeth ripping out throats, tasting fresh blood that was sweetened with fear. That was what made flesh tender – fear. He enjoyed bringing fear to all, even to his own kind. Orc meat was not as tender, but it certainly satisfied hunger during the long days.

The puppeteer held the head up high, the dead man's glassy eyes staring vacantly into the distance. "To victory!"

The others roared in acknowledgement as the Orc gleefully brought the head down onto its knee, cracking it open and devouring the inside.

It made Arzau hunger for more, but that would have to wait. For there was one last battle to fight, or perhaps two more. Taking one last bite of the arm he was feasting on, he stood up and threw the rest of it to another as they eagerly sank their teeth into it. Most fell silent, and even the one Orc that had been parading around with the head took his seat. Beating a fist against his chest, Arzau growled, baring his teeth as he let out a roar. The entire camp rose up to let out their war cries.

"We shall bring their walls down, wet our blades with their blood, and tear flesh from their bones!" he snarled, raising his jagged blade into the air. "We shall make their dead rain upon their city before overtaking it!"

A horrible screech broke through the air as the Witch-King soared high above on its fell beast. That was the signal! Arzau barked orders to load the catapults, his voice echoing throughout the camp as others commanded their troops to do the same.

It was time. The bloodiest of battles was near and it left him thrilled. Yes… soon it would be time to lay siege upon the White City, just as they had on the nearby farms, revelling in the screams of the dying as they were slain and burned alive. Some were even kept alive for entertainment purposes, and later slain when they were worthless to them.

The massive catapults in their trenches flung their shots high, well over the city's walls and into the first level. Many of the projectiles detonated and burst into flame. Arzau was at the front line, waiting for the order to charge toward the city as the great battering ram, Grond, was taken to the gate. An order rang through the dusty air, and he grinned with a sadistic glee. The heads of the fallen mortals were to be used as catapults, to be flung into the city. The image of weak mortals scampering in fear only made him hunger for more.

Another screech pierced his ears as the Witch-King flew on ahead, an army of Orcs and evil men following behind. Arzau let out a mighty battle cry and followed after the host with his group behind, snarling for the much-anticipated battle.

It was going to be glorious.


	2. Rebirth Part 1

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own my OC's.

This was just an something that popped into my head and I figured why not. It is a 'what if' kind of idea and just rolled with it.

Special thanks to my beta, Lydwina Marie. Thank you so much!

Cookies for anyone that can name the ones that weren't named but interacted with Sophia.

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 **Part 1**

"It is time to wake up, little one"

Sophia awoke to a soft voice, a warm hand gently brushing against her cheek. The words sounded like a whisper in the wind blowing through the forest. Opening her eyes, she blinked a few times as the world slowly came to focus and was startled at what she saw. Golden leaves, shielding the sun as a breeze gently rustled them, causing the sunlight to shimmer – almost like the stars she had read about. But… stars come out at night, not when the sun was shining. Was that really the sun? It was so bright and blinding...

A light laugh brought her attention to the beautiful woman sitting beside her, honey coloured hair trailing over her shoulder like a waterfall. She was fair of face, and her sparkling emerald eyes matched the green robes she wore. She looked familiar, but Sophia could not place the gorgeous woman. One thing was for sure, though, and that was that she felt safe, comforted, and at peace. Closing her eyes once more, she breathed in the fresh air, enjoying the sensation of it filling her lungs, and then slowly exhaled. A rare commodity, clean air. Nothing was alive or clean anymore. Everything had been soiled, and death had taken everything with it. This must be the so-called afterlife. It was painless, after all.

Warmth gently caressed her cheek as the woman spoke once again. "My dear child, you have suffered much, and at such a young age."

Yes, this was true. Alone she had been. Growing up, watching as everyone around her decayed, becoming mere shells of their former selves. The shelter losing power as time went on until only one section was left, leaving Sophia with a harsh choice: to die like the others, or wander the barren land. The only company she had were the books in the library and the system that kept the shelter going. It read to her, and from that she learned the words. Slowly, but in the end, she was able to read without assistance. She remembered falling in love with another world, wishing that it was her own. Middle-earth… such a beautiful place with many good people. So alive, but not without perils. Sophia cheered when good won against evil, cried at the deaths, and sighed at the exquisite love stories held within.

Those books were the only items she took outside. She held them clutched protectively to her chest as the stale air filled her lungs, suffocating her. Cracked earth puffed out dust, ashes of what was once a lush land full of life. Macabre shadows in the distance, almost a mockery of what once was; bones littering the way to a black tree that stood at the edge. Grey light outlined it, like a beacon as she dragged her feet onwards, pushing herself, wanting to see what was beyond.

A gentle hand wiping her tears away brought her back, eyes slowly opening to the image of the beautiful woman who was not smiling, but seemed sad. It was almost as if she felt the pain of Sophia's last moments. Was she…

"In a way, I am. But I am not known to many. For their time had long passed and another took my – no, our – place." Her voice was sad, reminiscent of the time she spoke of. "But enough of that. There is no sense in dwelling on what once was." The woman raised a hand and another took it, assisting her in standing. Sophia's eyes followed the much larger hand to see a strong man standing next to the tree.

A blacksmith was the first thought that came to Sophia, as the man wore clothing reminiscent of makers long gone. He sported a full brown beard, the end split into two small braids with beads at the end. His skin was tanned from days before a forge, and silver eyes seemed to pierce into her very being as she lay on the ground.

He brought the woman's hand to his lips and kissed it before letting go. Then he approached and crouched down. Strong arms easily cradled Sophia as she was lifted.

"You are a lucky mortal!" His chest vibrated when he spoke, voice deep and soothing. "It is rare for Eru himself to interfere and allow a second chance."

Eru? Second chance? It then dawned on her, an old memory surfacing and words inked on worn pages seeming to glow. Aulë, or Mahal, as he was known by the Dwarves, husband to Yavanna. The man fit the description and how she saw him in her mind;s eye, Sophia's eyes widened in surprise. He chuckled, silver eyes shining with happiness as if he was pleased with her recognizing him. How was it possible? It could not be true. All of this had to be some hallucination brought upon the last breath of life.

There was an audible slap, and Sophia jolted from the sudden movement as Aulë's shoulder jerked forward. "What did I say? You're scaring the child!" Another woman appeared, coming from behind Aulë, and stood before him with her arms outstretched. "Give her to me, you big oaf."

Sophia shifted her attention from the man to the other woman. She too was fair of face, with long, blonde hair and sapphire eyes. A silver circlet rested upon her brow, a simple yet intricate design of stars woven into it. Her lips were pursed as she moved closer, holding her arms out towards the man.. Aulë hesitated before muttering something in another language and gently handing her over.

"Ignore the big oaf; he does not listen to others." The woman carefully cradled her in her arms. It was a little annoying to be treated as a doll, being passed around without a say in the matter. But it was hard to move, and she did not even know how to speak, as it was never taught, but understanding was easily learned. It must have been evident that she was annoyed when the woman clicked her tongue and started walking. "Come now. Fussing over it will not change a thing."

She began to hum a lullaby gently, and foreign, tender words soon followed. There was a beauty to them, almost like a leaf dancing in the wind as the notes continued to come forth, guiding her in a rising and falling pattern. Sophia was entranced by the singing as the words seemed to envelop her in a light and eased all her worries away. What strength she had returned but it benefited her nothing when the urge to sleep washed over her. She struggled to remain awake, but it was a failed attempt as her eyes fluttered before falling shut. It was not long until the singing stopped and was replaced by the sound of water and whispers. Hushed voices talked among themselves, falling silent when the woman stopped.

The beautiful language spilled from her lips once more before she switched into another, allowing Sophia to understand. It was odd, really - she was not asleep, and yet she was not awake either.

"Young one, what we offer is not something easily given," began the woman. "Very few were given this chance, and even less a choice in who they wish to be."

Any worries Sophia had had disappeared in the span of the song until now, and with a clear mind she understood. She truly had passed away. Somehow the Valar had taken pity on a lowly mortal who did nothing but dream and read books. Or was it because she wished they were real? A gentle hand rested upon her brow, the warmth from it filling her with even more calm, and a thought. It was not because of a wish, but they truly existed. Watching their world and seeing it change, allowing another to rule over the Earth as they tended to their own.

"It is time to make a choice." The voice was male now, gentle and something much more. It was his hand that rested upon her brow… But how did she know… Ah, Irmo. It was Irmo who was speaking to her. "Who do you wish to be?"

Images of a beautiful race flashed in her mind, fair faces and pointed ears. Graceful in all they did, even in battle. Elves. An immortal race that had seen many rise and fall. No… she did not wish to be an Elf. While she enjoyed their stories and was mildly jealous of their appearance, wisdom, and life span, if she were to be an Elf, then she would be lonely. No, not an Elf. Dwarves were too rowdy and hairy for her tastes, but she would love to listen to their stories and songs, to watch them create beautiful works of art - but nay, she did not wish to be one of them. Hobbits were another race that she could have chosen, but while they were brave in their own way, the idea of eating a lot of food made her stomach ache. Not in hunger, but in pain at overeating.

Before another image took the place of the Hobbits, she quickly decided what she wanted and why. Sophia wanted to be of the race of Men. While they were short lived, their lives were simple and full of all kinds of experiences. She loved all of the Free People on Middle-earth, but it was the Men who truly called out to her the most.

The warmth from the hand disappeared, but remnants of a beautiful scenery remained. Rolling green hills, horses galloping across the land and a green banner with the symbol of a horse flying proud atop a large building.

"She has chosen not a life of peace and grace, nor one full of forges and songs. Not even that of the little folk, but that of Man. Without asking, I saw her dream of the Horse people," the man said, speaking to the others.

In that moment, another pair of arms cradled her. Strong and unfamiliar scents surrounded him. "With Eru's grace, I shall take responsibility in choosing a family for you, young one." There was a shuffling as a strange noise reached her ears along with a heavy stomp on the ground. Momentarily, the man shifted her as he jumped and settled on a living creature. She rested against him, arms at her sides, and soon there was a rocking motion. They were moving. Oh, she wished to open her eyes and see. She could only imagine that they were on a horse.

Voices rose in a harmonious song as they continued, moving farther away from the others. With each passing second, her old life surfaced and slowly disappeared as if someone had opened a book and was turning the pages. Each memory was held suspended for what seemed to be an eternity before fading away. With each of them, her body became lighter and soon there was nothing. It was as if she was suspended in the air, curled up in a protective warmth.

"May you live a prosperous life, little one." The man's voice sounded far away, muffled, and the words did not fully reach her ears as another came through.

Humming. The gentle vibration surrounded her, giving her a sense of calm. "I cannot wait to meet you, my joy."

 _Nor I… Mother._


End file.
